


The Pleasure and The Pain

by SunsetCanopy



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Consent, Denial of Feelings, Drinking & Talking, F/M, Feelings Realization, Mutual Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-07-29 16:27:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20085238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunsetCanopy/pseuds/SunsetCanopy
Summary: "If you want something, ask for it."It's hard to confess your feelings if you don't know the names for them.They figure it out eventually.





	1. Chapter 1

Cassian doesn't drink. 

There's no grand, pompous reason for it. He just doesn't. His aliases do. They drink to be polite, to watch the mouths of targets grow loose over the rim of his glass while his own tastes rancid, to fit in with flutes of sparkles and bottles of liquid gold while he sips blood, to be able to linger with his arm resting across a grimy booth. They drink and Cassian never has.

He just watches. 

Jyn does. She's drinking, right now, laughing with Bodhi at her elbow, surrounded by a gaggle of pilots and two female techs, one of which, the Human, the raven-haired woman with a snow-white smile, is very clearly flirting with Jyn. Who is very clearly responding in kind.

Cassian just watches.

Jyn'd offered him a drink exactly once, long ago, when she hadn't known, and he'd never been compelled to explain before, but he did, to her, because it was her. I don't, he said, because I don't want to (because all the others do, and I get lost, sometimes, in the dark, so I need touchstones to guide me on my way, to keep me out of the water, and this is one of them).

She'd nodded then smiled then tossed back both the glasses she'd poured. More for me, she'd replied. Cassian watched, kept an eye on her, really, from across the table where he was pretending to focus on his dinner turning sour in his mouth, unsure and a little afraid from knowing, but Jyn, miraculous in every way, knew exactly when and how to stop. I never drank out on the streets, she'd said, or in prison, it wasn't safe, and Saw never let me when I was younger, but I remember my parents did, though I think it was the stress of the Empire breathing down their necks. Cassian nodded. Which is why I'm careful, she added, because you never know, no matter how good it tastes, how good it feels. Cassian breathed a sigh of relief.

So now, he can just watch, without fear, worry, anxiety. He watches as she smiles, really smiles, broad and unafraid, not that wicked little grin when she's bested him at something, or blown something up, or that shy little smile she gives him _sometimes, _the one that makes his heart go topsy-turvy as if he was a ship being shot out of the sky. None of those, it is the broad smile of a woman who knows laughter, who knows joy, who knows friendship, and who feels no fear.

He's careful not to stare, because that would be karking creepy, and he's not a creep, and she's a little tipsy and he isn't, sitting here in the corner like a ghost at an empty table. Cassian's watching without watching, where he looks at every detail of this room overflowing with beings nursing drinks, gaze never lingering too long, or too inviting, while his entire focus rests on one person. Jyn. So he knows where Bodhi is, where Luke is, and when the princess and the smuggler slipped away to find a quiet corridor, but he doesn't care for any of it, just files it all away for future reference. The only thing that matters right now, with is Jyn. For once he has nothing else worth thinking about, no battles, no spies, no plans, no alliances. Just her.

He just watches. 

He watches her move, surefooted yet careless, a cross between the heavy feet of a bouncer and the grace of a dancer, linking Bodhi's arm with hers and only letting him go when he starts to make puppy-eyes at Skywalker. From here, on the empty bench, in the corner framed by two doorless walls, in the dark, where shadows shrink and stretch his frame, he watches her. He memorizes the way strands of hair blow across her face, how her eyes sparkle, gleam, shine. 

It's so much easier to watch her from afar. When she isn't looking at him, talking to him, pressing her shoulder against his arms, their steps falling together even though his stride is slightly longer. When he isn't taken in by sheer proximity the gold flecks in her eyes, the scars on her hands, the folds of her scarf, or the hair falling loose from her bun.

Why does he find this courage only when she's looking at someone else? She's not flirting with_ him,_ Force, no.

But... that's a lie, isn't it?

Yes, he always, always, watches her like this, ever since she'd stood at the front of the shuttle on Scarif and told the crew to pick up sticks and lay down their lives. How else would he be able to see the gold in her eyes when half her face is thrown in shadow and the rest of it is thrown back in a laugh?

Cassian tells himself it's his extreme attention to detail, the life-or-death skill, the voices in his head, the need to know, to see, to account for everything. To check, double check, triple check, to memorize, know, understand.

But Cassian finds himself doing all that and more for her. Savoring. Cherishing. Adoring. Words that don't belong in the mind of a recruiter, assassin, spy.

Blast it.

He's getting attached, and more than in just the way he'd grown fond of a blaster he'd lost on a mission, when Draven had chastised him for thinking of even having a belonging. 

He realizes, with her, he belongs.

The only question is - does she feel the same way?

Cassian's starting to wish he drank, at least to give him an excuse to stumble over and tell her how he - no, no that's creepy and weird. He wishes he drank to give himself an excuse for his train of thought. Now he's stuck with his own, un-inebriated, irrefutable clarity of thought. He's a goner, a karking, sappy, goner, who's in - in - in - 

His skin prickles. The tech's still talking, and Jyn's nodding, but her body language tells him it's in that way she does when she's in a briefing she finds boring, right when Dodonna asks if everyone understood the plan that's bound to go awry anyways. 

Cassian scrubs his face, drains his glass, rises from the table and walks off to his quarters in search of relief. Without giving Jyn a second glance.

He could swear a pair of eyes are on his back as he leaves. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated a high M.

Jyn swipes at her brow with the back of her hand.

She exhales, steadies herself, then punches, and again, rapid fire like a blaster, cracking with the force of her truncheons. The bag takes every hit without question. She's sweating, breathing hard, face flush, yet her hair remains in place. She's not too surprised - she's been able to keep it out of her eyes for years, without ever calling on the need to braid her hair. There's too much baggage there.

She's stripped off a few of her customary layers, though. There's nobody else in the training room, it being too odd an hour for anyone other than late night arrivals and mechanics on the graveyard shift to be out and about. And none of those would be wanting to exert themselves. So Jyn's leaped at the free punching bag, and tossed off her vest, her scarf, her jacket, and even swapped out her tucked long sleeve for a rumpled sleep shirt that shifts with her movements. 

Training soothes her like nothing else. It's been like that since her days with Saw, when with shaky hands she fired at stormtrooper armor dangling from wires. Truncheons, fists, anything where she spars with a non-living target, where the only sounds are the beat of her hands and her heartbeat in her ears, drowning out every snide comment, snort, and her own ancient rage and exhaustion. Her every thought crumples under her every swipe. It's just her, Jyn, bared teeth and soul. 

So absorbed in her meditative state, Jyn doesn't notice she's being watched until the door to the corridor is blocked out by a figure leaning against the doorframe.

She doesn't look over. She recognizes that silhouette anywhere. It's Cassian. Watching her silently.

She should be a little self conscious, though she doesn't really know why. He's seen her half dead and fully sick. He's pulled up her shirt to slap on bacta patches, unzipped her to clean wounds. She's done the same for him. There's no shyness among comrades, no bashfulness in war. 

And yet... Jyn feels his gaze on her, really feels it, more than in the way she feels it every karking day he's around her, which is saying something. There's always this bright intensity in his eyes when he looks at her, and though she's used to it now, it still sends her heart topsy-turvy like a ship shot out of the sky.

This, though, it's almost like he's touching her with his eyes. Crudely so. Jyn would say his eyes on her feels like the party three nights ago, but even then he'd seemed... absorbed. Not staring through her, or at her, but almost... holding her. In his eyes. Like on the elevator on Scarif. But now, oh, stars, her heart squeezes, now he's... he's devouring her. 

The bag swings and almost bonks her head.

She moves quickly to catch it, closes her eyes, sighs, then starts again. Rapid fire punches. She moves her torso, and her shirt hikes up again, and she's pretty sure Cassian's noticed the exposed skin, because the shirt's a dark blue and she's karking pale even while flushed from exertion, and, well, he's staring at it, she knows he is, _she wants him to, she wants to drive him mad,_ and it _is _driving him mad, and so she almost smirks. Almost. But then she's thinking about his arms, crossed tightly, she can tell from here, even out of the corner of her eyes, his fists are almost balled, flexing as if he's thinking about planting his hands on her waist, now she's driving _herself_ mad with want - 

She punches. Hard.

He's moving towards her now, walking around the table pushed up against a wall, and she expects him to talk, say something about how her punches aren't proper, how her form is off, how she's going to throw out her back if she keeps twisting too much, and _here's_ how you should be standing, and shove her torso around as he says so. Well, Cassian usually doesn't shove her around. He asks before touching her and his touch is usually feather-light, and through at least three karking layers. 

But now Jyn's thinking of that strip of skin, and Cassian's firm, calloused palms on it, she knows what they look like and she know show they'll feel against her maddeningly untouched skin. He steps behinds her while she's thinking of his fingers working their way under the hem of her shirt, sliding up her ribs, over all the scars and bruises -

He's pressing his chest to her back. His hands are up her shirt. She's not just thinking. It's _happening._

She stops punching. 

Her heart pounds, framed by his hands cupping her just under her breastband.

There's a moment of hesitation, him waiting, and when she doesn't move, doesn't make a sound in protest, he undoes it, fast and slow all at once. She shudders out a breath as he palms her, massages her, works at the aching muscles and fat and flesh and need. 

Jyn steps back and almost collapses into him. Almost. She groans at his touch, just hard enough to _be_ enough, but also light enough to tease her nerves, to tickle, to tantalize, just like his beard scraping the curve of her neck. He's working at her with his fingers now, drawing circles, making gooseflesh and live wires out of her skin, keeping one hand around her stomach, pressing her to him, against him. He teases her, toys with her, circles her, squeezing and doing everything just right, so perfectly imperfect, leaving her wanting more, more, more.

She's breathing hard, Cassian's free arm rising and falling.

Then he stops. Waits.

She leans against him, giving him all of her weight and trust. Silently, he unzips her pants, pushing them down far enough to give him access. So close. She expects his hands to move down, over and around and around and in, but instead his hand goes up to her lips. Not touching them. Two fingers, together. She can't see him, but she knows what he wants because it's what she wants. She opens her mouth and takes them in, showing him exactly what she's capable of, a teaser, a sample.

It's working because now she feels him pushing against her, his want, his desire, so infuriatingly in control. Perfect in it's imperfection. But it's not time yet. She knows it as well as she does.

She lets go of his fingers just as he pulls them away. She knows exactly where they're going, wiggling her knees to give him leeway, and then he's touching her, circling her, rubbing her with those two wet fingers, one on either side, as if she'd given him directions, as if he'd watched her - but that was impossible.

Jyn groans, and her hands, which she only now realizes haven't been restrained at all during this wondrous experience, slip under her own shirt, picking up where Cassian had left off. She pushes herself up against him, because she's ready for him now, and he knows it too, so he moves downwards, tracing a path, teasing, teasing, teasing, and she's about to stomp on his foot and tell him to get on with it when he does, sinking his fingers into her. She's tight against him, and the balance of pressure and friction and liquid ease is perfect in its imperfection.

Her own hands move back to hold her steady against him, because it would be a shame if she fell over so close to freedom, and then she's able to move with him, rock against him, squirming and moaning as he strokes her, thumb circling her, and finally Cassian catches Jyn when she almost falls forward in relief when it finally comes to her. Almost.

She knows it's not over yet. This is just the beginning.

She turns, getting a closer look at Cassian for the first time in the terrible, pretty much non existent lighting of the training room. His hair is mussed and his face is flush, she thinks, but she's frowning at his clothes. There are far too many of them. Cassian sees her staring and shrugs off his jacket and shirt, folding them neatly on the table, leaving him in a tank and his still fully zipped pants. Jyn's not looking down, or forward, not yet. 

She steps backwards, pulling her shirt and breastband off and plopping them on Cassian's pile. They move together, as one mind, her walking backwards and him forwards, until her back's against the wall.

She pushes her pants and undergarments down all the way, over her boots - which are the only thing she keeps on, for some reason - and tosses them over the table. She's ready, when he is.

She leans against the wall, watching as Cassian slowly and painstakingly undoes his belt, taking a page from his own book and noting, relishing, every clink of metal against fabric, the unzipping of his fly, and when he pushes all the barriers between them down far enough to free himself.

Jyn's breath catches in her throat as he grips himself, tender and wanting but maddeningly in control. He presses his lips together, and her eyes widen. She knows what he wants, and she widens her stance for him, and she thinks he smiles appreciatively as he trails his fingers up her thigh, over her, swiping his hand across her, then himself. 

She glances up only when she feels his eyes on her, but her gaze is drawn back down at the movement, of him pumping himself, flicking like he did her, teasing her, teasing himself, them, as one entity. He watches her watch him, she feels him watching, waiting, measuring, as if he was looking through a scope. Lethal accuracy. He watches her watch him and it's a cycle of want feeding want.

Then he steps forward, and Jyn knows, and they move as one, her propping one foot against the table, and hiking the other up around his waist, and his arms firmly grasp her hips, and she's holding onto him for strength and assurance and hope, blast it, and then he pushes into her and she wraps herself around him, and the stretch is perfect, absolutely karking perfect, and he fills her entirely, heart and soul and she gasps at the pleasant shock of it, stars stinging in her eyes, they fit so well together because of course they do, and he's just over being enough, just close to being too much for her that it's perfect in it's imperfection. Jyn barely finishes the thought before he's kriffing her against the wall, and she's kriffing him right back, rocking into him as he pulses in her, pulls her to him, and she tightens to the rhythm of his breathing and their rocking, in and out and almost and half, steady and erratic and frantic and even. Hard but soft in touch, and her hair's in her face, and he's touching her too, one hand drifting along the lines and curves of her hips, across the scar that's cut her free from fear.

They kriff without pause or doubt, kriff until they finish, and Cassian sighs, and Jyn sighs, crumbling, free, and she loses control, and slips away, her head just bumping back into the wall -

Her elbow gives out, and her chin slips out from her palm, and her head dives towards the table, almost bonking it. Almost.

Both her hands slap against the table's surface, and breathing hard, she looks up and around, dizzy.

No Cassian. 

No clothes on the table.

Her shirt, still on her, stuck to her by sweat.

The punching bag is still swaying, her hand wrappings partially undone, her bag still unzipped.

Jyn had dozed off. 

She blushes immediately, thank the stars she can blame it on the exercise, a karking dream like that at this age, stars above! But then Jyn's sent wallowing into shame and disgust, not at her sexuality, because she did have a very pleasant evening with the tech three nights ago, but dream-Cassian was so much more pleasant thanks to pain, in a way, not in physicality but in... something.

It'd hurt, broken her in a way, both to realize it was a dream and also that she'd come up with it. No wonder he had known what he was doing, to perfect pleasure. It's never like that, especially the first time. But most unnerving of all was how he hadn't spoken. In the dream, it made sense, they were one and the same, of one mind and two bodies, and god it was a pleasant, romantic thought, and yes, maybe she did want that, but now, right now, tonight and tomorrow and for the foreseeable future, dream-Cassian pained her. Did she really think of him as just that, a wordless... plaything? 

Oh, she thinks, she wants what she thought she just had. With him, to soothe the pain, the aches, the loneliness. But she wants far, far more, so much more it outweighs the fact he might never want that with her at all. She wants his friendship and his _love_ as well as his lust (and kisses, kark it, dream-Cassian hadn't kissed her either). But does Cassian?

Jyn sighs, finishes unwrapping and packing, then grabs her pack and heads to bed in search of relief.

She doesn't notice she passes by Cassian in the corridor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments everyone! Here's the Jyn POV chapter you asked for.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High T/Low M towards the end of the chapter.

A knock rattles Jyn's door.

Jyn slides off her bunk, grabbing some pins off her nightstand and tucking her hair into a bun as she pads over to the door. She smooths out her fresh clothes before she opens it, not that she really cares about whichever Force-foresaken creature decided to knock her door right as she was going to bed after a long day of... well, a long day. She'd slept in that morning, after her nap in the training room, so she had to make up for it with a grueling day of work. She had a brief stint in the communal sonic where she'd tried to shock her thoughts back in order before bed, and she thinks maybe tonight she'll have some relief.

The door slides open with a few bumps and groans, and the figure standing in the doorway make her feel like _she's_ the Force-forsaken creature.

It's Cassian.

"Oh," Jyn says, mouth gaping, "hi." 

"Hi." 

She discreetly pinches herself when she moves to let him in, to make sure it's not another dream, and, well, it isn't.

Cassian is very, very real. His battered brown jacket, tossed over a perfectly ironed shirt, his neatly combed hair, the flick of his eyelashes as he takes in her darkened, meager quarters. All real, as real as Jyn's quickening pulse, how her eyes fall from his angular, scruffy, kriffing adorable face to his barely moving chest, his breathing, and the sweet, soft scent of regulation soap that manages to only smell nice when Cassian's the one who's used it. Go figure. 

"You're off again?" Jyn shoves her hands into the pockets of her sleep pants and finds another hairpin.

Cassian parts his lips, abruptly shuts his mouth, then pulls his eyebrows together in what must be confusion, but to Jyn, looks a lot like dread. "Ah, no." 

"Oh. Um," Jyn toys with the pin in her pocket, thinking of how exactly to ask Cassian why he was in her room at this time of night. Thankfully, he offers the answer himself.

"You've got a meeting tomorrow at 0700. We got a new trail and your team's going to be the one chasing it. You'll be departing tomorrow night."

"Oh. Alright. Thanks for letting me know." She means it, because telling Jyn something she'll find out on her datapad is far, far, far below Cassian's station. He's got better things to do than serve as her personal protocol droid. "I appreciate it." 

Cassian runs a hand through his hair, agitating it. "I know, you were going to find out about the meeting anyways, and I know you already knew you'd be leaving tomorrow. Thought I'd let you know early so you'd be ready for it. And... I haven't seen you all day. Since breakfast yesterday, actually." He ducks his head as he says it, as if he's ashamed of something. Or maybe Jyn's still confused. Her already fragile thoughts shattered as soon as she'd opened the door, skitting to pieces across the floor, making a minefield she's trying not to step on with bare feet. 

"Oh," she says, for the third time in a row, because that's all she can say, all she knows how to say.

He's missed her, after not seeing her for a day and a half. He's missed her. _He misses her._

She matters to him.

She has an effect on him. Of course, they're friends, and it's normal to miss your friends, but she can feel the tension rolling off him, which in all honestly, she's always been able to do, even on Jedha, when he'd been prickling with foreboding and the planet literally blew up right after, so, yes, he's tense, and somehow in those tumultous waters she finds hope. Grasps it tightly. "Well, Bodhi was with us, and he was leaving right after, so we didn't get a didn't really talk to each other that much. We haven't..." she swallows, "we haven't talked since before the party."

"Yeah," Cassian replies softly, eyes downcast. "We haven't."

"You left pretty early."

"Yeah. I... I was tired. I went straight to bed."

Jyn nods. Fair enough. Something deep inside her, down where she doens't want to think about, thinks he might've been jealous of her. Whatever. She'd gone straight to bed too, but for an entirely different reason. She tries not to think about it with Cassian in front of her, even though it was lovely and she has the right to think her thoughts, and technically, as a friend, she could mention the hookup to him. She'd said as much to Bodhi, who'd given her a thoughtful look before saying something about the tech being a very nice girl, actually, but he suspects she might be harboring feelings for someone else. Which Jyn responded to by saying it was only a hookup, anyways, and both of them had a mutual agreement it wouldn't go anywhere else, and she wouldn't mind if she dated someone else. It was none of her business.

Thinking these thoughts with Cassian standing right here, in her room, almost feels like cheating, which it isn't, because he's never expressed any romantic or sexual interest in her, and neither has she to him. Even so, the heart thinks what it thinks. She hadn't thought of Cassian during or immediately after, because the tech was wonderful and lovely and Jyn still doesn't understand why she has to justify all this, maybe because, well, before.... she'd been watching him all night. More than she usually does, because she was a little tipsy and tipsy-Jyn was even more brusque and pointed and more in touch with her heart than sober-Jyn, could you imagine! And tipsy-Jyn liked looking at Cassian, though her brain told her not to. And she's looking at him right now.

She bites her lip. The pain is inevitable. She does her best not to think of the dream, oh, kriff, and there it is, rushing to her face as a blush. Thank the Force the only light is from outside, casting her quarters in colorless shades. Now she's realizing she's staring at Cassian like an idiot, poor man, who's taken up a new habit of staring everywhere but her. Blast. 

Blast it, she's going to regret saying this. 

"Cassian, I..." He looks up, at her, and under the gentle scrutiny of those brown eyes, Jyn collapses entirely. "Cassian, I don't think we can keep this friendship up."

_Wait, what?_ Blast. Blast. That was not what she meant nor how she planned on saying it. Cassian, too, hadn't seemed to be expecting what she'd said, but he handles it, well, unsurprisingly well. 

"I'm sorry, I was a creep for showing up so late at night, without asking-"

"No! No, Cassian, wait, it's not what I meant. And you aren't a creep. Force, no, what I was trying to say was, I want, I want... I want something... I want more from you. Ah, us. Something. Not from you, that's, no that's creepy. I'm not soliciting anything from you. Blast." 

Jyn smacks her forehead.

"Jyn," Cassian's voice is soft and sweet and low and a blasterbolt to the heart, as always. "Jyn, if you want something, ask for it." 

She sighs, and it shakes, and it's almost a sob, actually, kriff it, her stomach's churning and it hurts, really, because she's going to ruin everything isn't she? But she can't last one more minute, not with all this in her heart.

She does love him. 

She loves him, she wants him, she can live with both or neither or one of the two, but she will be devastated if she loses him as a friend. She wants him in her life and in her, literally, but Jyn has no idea what to say. Why was it so much easier with the tech, with every person she'd bedded before? She was direct. She can do that.

"I want us to kiss," she says, finally, because she'd spent too long staring at the shaded lines of his mouth, so her confession is caught between the two, love and lust. One could love without kissing or kiss without love, but this is Cassian and there's only one meaning for that word, with him, for her. As long as he feels the same way. Blast, what if it wasn't? What if he's as flippant about kissing as she is, he hasn't told her about lovers or dates or hookups, but blast, blast, blast, he's the softest of all the hearts she's met, despite that sharp exterior, part Baze and part Saw in a lot of ways, in honesty. Kriff. So she takes a deep breath, steadying herself by staring at his chest. Not his face. Because she's not finished. "But only if you want to. Only if," her breath catches, and she forces the words out, "only if you've _wanted_ to."

"Of all the things... I thought you wanted a promotion."

Jyn almost chokes. "A promotion?"

"Don't ask me! I didn't think... you know... you'd even think of me..." He's looking at her, straight at her, not devouring her like in the dream, but holding her, even though he hasn't touched her. "Jyn," he murmurs, "I thought about kissing you in the elevator, but it was too soon and I was dying. I've_ wanted_ to since, stars, I don't know. I don't know, but it feels like a lifetime. But I was afraid. So afraid."

"Afraid I'd say no?"

"Afraid of... falling in love with you. I was hoping I just wanted you, a fleeting thing, the sort that happens to people who survive near death experiences together. I tried to rationalize it. It's a war, you're my friend, I'm higher ranking, you prefer casual connections... but I failed. I failed just like I failed on Eadu. And I was ashamed too, becuase I only accepted what I was feeling when you were talking to other people, and by the time I'd see you again I'd be a coward once again." 

Jyn makes a strangled noise that sounds a lot like Cassian's name. "Oh," she sighs, "Cassian... I'm an idiot. I should've... I should've told you when I first knew. I should've known you wouldn't make the first move."

Cassian huffs, a laugh from him. "Really?"

"I don't see you kissing me right now." Jyn tilts her chin up and looks him directly in the face. He steps towards her, takes his jacket off and sets it on her table, and then she loses track of what happens in what order. He cups her face, she slips her arms over his waist, and then their mouths bump together, melt around each other, first a shy whisper, barely touching, a brush of noses, grazing lips, like Yavin's humidty on their skin, and then they pull away.

Cassian kisses her forehead, her forehead! Of all the things! And all she can do is smile up at him, as if they'd just sent off the Death Star plans. 

"What was that about not making the first move?" It's in his voice. He wants more. She does too, her whole body yearning for it. She tells him you're fine anywhere except with his hands around her neck, and he tells her you can use anything but your teeth on his bare skin. Then lips crash together, finally, Force, and everything gives way to the feeling swelling inside, deep down, they're kissing hard, she's grabbing onto him, and he's got her so tight she can't move anywhere but closer, just as wanting. And then their lips part, and now there's tongues involved, their hands are moving, and yes, and yes, and yes. They chase sounds and feelings, tasting desire against their lips, making noises at the back of their throats, _Force alive, those noises are for her. _Her shirt's been unclasped, he's lost his shirt entirely, he could've undone it, maybe she did it herself, neither can remember, but it's enough to give him access to more of her skin, and now she can feel his breathing under her bare palm, and Force, he wants her so badly, just as much as she did him, if only she'd _known._

He's leaving marks, because she told him she liked that sort of possessiveness, and he seemed to want it, and he does, and he seems to like how her fingers curl into his hair every time he does it, so now there's a trail of bruises down her neck that she's going to have to hide tomorrow. Then he swoops back up to kiss her cheeks, all the way down the bridge of her nose, along the arc of her jaw, pecking her lips, then nuzzling her neck, and Force, his stubble was going to kill her.

Jyn can't help but moan, kriff the neighbors, so much so Cassian stops and asks if it's too much, if it hurts, if it's uncomfortable and getting in the way of her pleasure, because really he could just shave it all off if that's what she needs, but she just pulls him back to her and presses him closer and tells him he better not mention doing that ever again. Shivers when he uses his tongue to make gooseflesh and live wires out of her skin. She pulls him down lower, so she can return those cheek kisses, then lets him bury his face against her, pushing her breastband just low enough so he can rest against her heartbeat.

They catch their breath, panting evening out to broken sighs. Jyn rests her chin over Cassian's shoulder, lulled by his breathing and the movement of his fingers on the bare skin of her back.

"Shavit, Cassian," she sighs, "I'm falling asleep."

Cassian makes a noise against her skin. "Really?" he says, a little hurt, a little on fire. Fully in the pain only pleasure can cause. 

Jyn stills with his face still buried against her. "Wait, no, I didn't mean it like that. Cassian, you're wonderful. I'm kriffing tired. I'm ready to kriff," she says, a slip of the tongue, really, but then Cassian looks up at her and kriff everything, "I just need to sleep," he does want more, she knows it, he just has to ask. And she needs to sleep first.

But she's leaving tomorrow. Blast it. 

It's a question for another day.

He nods then, bashful and pensive all at once, gathering up his things to leave. She watches him, waits, and at the door he bids her good night and good luck for the mission.

When the door falls shut, Jyn sighs, sitting back on the bed, and wonders if she'll ever be able to tell him what she's truly thinking. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be the last chapter...


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> M rated at the end.

Cassian shuts his eyes and tries to focus on the sensation of his head sinking into his bunk, the sheet taut over his body, anything except the image of Jyn's silhouette disappearing up the ramp of her ship.

He sighs. Stares at the roof.

This is exactly what he'd been afraid of. Not that he hadn't worried about Jyn before... before last night, but now all he can think of is her. If she'd understood him, if she'd even registered what he'd said. He should've been clearer.

He was in love with her. He wanted to kiss her, yes, and she'd asked for it too, and they had, and it had been so lovely, so lovely, he aches everywhere just thinking about it, but now, alone in his bunk, all he can think about is the lingering taste of her on his lips and the sigh buried deep inside his chest. The pain of not knowing if she was aware he wasn't just lusting after her, that she wasn't a short term fling, a comrade who understood his fears, understood why he got up and left in the morning without saying goodbye because they did the exact same thing. He's had those. He's had a lover too, knows Jyn did, when they were young and the baggage they carried was smaller. But this was different. What he has with Jyn is all those and more. He hopes it will be.

He wants her to know that she's his someday, the slim chance, the first spark of hope for himself. That maybe, one day, if they make it out of this alive, the reassurance, he has someone to live the rest of his life for. With. Beside. Who saw him for who he was, who he sees for herself. Who understands. Who agrees. 

Cassian had wanted to tell her, desperately, when he'd met her to see her off. But he didn't want to jeopardize her mission, fill her mind with unnecessary things, when focus would be what saves her. He can't risk that. So he lies in wait. Waiting, wanting. 

Remembering how full her lips were as she'd told him they were leaving, how they remained slightly parted as she watched him return the kindness, how her hand reached up to adjust her scarf, lingering longer than she needed to, making a fist out of the extra layer unnecessary for the humid weather but they both knew exactly why she was wearing it, and it was as if she was reminding them both that yes, last night had happened.

And then, and then what had he done? Suddenly afraid she thought it was a one off thing, that maybe he was afraid of them being in the spotlight, he'd quickly leaned down. Partially thinking to kiss her cheek, but stalled, midway, because he didn't know if she still wanted him like that. 

It'd been horrifying.

But then Jyn had adjusted the strap of her satchel, pushing it behind her, so she could reach up and hug him, and they'd hugged, so tightly Cassian was afraid he was breaking all of Jyn's bones, eyes screwed shut against the sudden urge to cry. Jyn's hand flat on his back, the other stroking his hair, both of them in a corner of the hangar, behind some crates and a dozing mechanic, hugging so tightly his heart almost burst. And that was better than any possible night could ever be, with her heartbeat in his ribcage and his own lost somewhere on her lips. They hugged as long as they could get away with it, before her team started calling Jyn's name, before Cassian's own conscience finished eating its way through him.

And just as he'd been about to pull away, Jyn kissed his cheek with a smile he could _feel._

Startled, Cassian almost jerked away, but Jyn was the first to let go, falling back on her heels. Even now, the fear of pushing her away plagues him, but he remembers, knows, he'd been barely able to move fast enough, to catch her, to lean forward and chastely kiss her in return.

Cassian does his best to remember Jyn's soft smile as she spoke. "We can finish when I get back," she'd said. And all he could do was smile back, and then she was gone, taking the smile with her.

Two weeks. He might be sent to the field by then. When he got back, she might be gone again. Nothing was certain. Absolutely nothing. All Cassian has, all he's ever had, is hope and memories. The memories are torture, and the hope even more so, the pain of fantasizing of if and when and how one he can't bear, but he does. anyway, because when has his heart ever listened to raw logic?

He closes his eyes, and now Jyn's lips are on his cheek again, but then they move over his lips, and she's on the bed with him, over him. He's surging up towards her, kissing her back, holding her close, closer, even closer, his legs keeping her in place, telling her everything he's wanted to tell her, and her whispering similar confessions and desires right back, her dialogues too perfect to be from anything other than his own mind.

Her hands are firm on him, under his shirt, grabbing him, tracing over his chest, and he's pressing her to him. As close as their bodies allow. Jyn's hands dip lower, under his waistband, teasing him, searching all the while she kisses him, and he starts moaning into their kisses. He's hard. Blast. She's holding him tight, grasping him with a wicked smile, and now he's moving involuntarily, his own hand reaching lower, quickly, can't be quick enough, pumping himself in a dreamlike state, as if his working hand is now Jyn's, sweet woman. He's biting his lips as hard as he can, careful not to make a single sound as dream-Jyn manages to keep kissing him, pinning him in place with her body as she rubs him into madness. Until all the pain and pleasure rushes out as Jyn's name, whispered so softly if she'd actually been sleeping beside him she wouldn't have heard it. 

Sleep eventually reaches him with just as much yearning. 

When he wakes up in the morning, he tucks all his hopes and desires away. Banishes them into the darkness. A day, two days, a week. He's due to leave on an intel gathering mission two days before Jyn returns.

He leaves, without hesitation, because there's no hesitation in his heart for the Rebellion, but there is pain. He knows she'll understand, because there's no other option, not when they've chosen this life. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High M after the second dividing line.

Cassian is exhausted. 

He's beyond exhausted ever since Scarif, really, his field missions seem to take a greater toll on him, and not just the physical toll on his twisted back. The stakes shouldn't feel this high, not when the Rebellion is a legitimate force to be reckoned with. Maybe that's why he's so tired. The Empire knows the Rebellion and its spies are a valid threat, now. The losses, too, hit hard. There's more of them, more and more as the victories pile up, so maybe it's harder when they lose when victory seems more and more plausible.

He sighs when he reaches his quarters, mind running on autopilot. He keys in the passcode to his door, and is suddenly jolted out of his deep thoughts. A surprise awaits him in his quarters, in his bed, specifically. 

His hand's on his blaster, the light flickers on, and kriff, that mess of brown hair, it's - 

"Jyn?"

Had he mistakenly walked into her quarters?

No, these were his, there wasn't a single item of clothing in sight, unlike Jyn's, except the boots at the base of his bed. Boots smaller than his.

"Mmmgh - Cassian?"

Jyn sits up, sheets pulling themselves down around her, face reddening. "Blast, I thought you weren't - I - I'll leave, now."

Cassian blinks, and Jyn's working at removing herself from a cocoon of blankets he thought he'd left folded in the under-bed storage, and he blinks again, because Jyn's IN HIS BED. His. Bed. His. He might pinch himself, it feels like a dream. 

"Um. No. I mean, no, it's fine, you can stay. Ah, uh, if it doesn't bother you. I won't bother you. If you aren't. Bothered."

He's too tired for this, really. He'd even napped for in hyperspace, but even that wasn't enough under the sheer power of Jyn, Jyn's sleepy face, sleepy hair, sleepy logic, everything. 

"But you need the bed."

"I mean..." There really wasn't much floor space for him to sleep on, and his back protests at the idea. "I guess." 

"You want to share?" 

Jyn, for her part, doesn't look mortified at the idea. Actually, she looks rather comfortable with it. Cassian tries to remind himself the last time they'd been together, they'd kissed. Very chastely, not like the night before _that,_ and now... his thoughts are headed elsewhere. He sighs, unused to the mix of longing and resolution. "You look comfortable, I don't want to move you."

"How kind. And yes, I am comfy, and you joining me won't change that." She bites her lip, as if she was about to add something more, then decided against it. 

"Okay. Great. I'm going to, to shower, and change, and then. Um. I'll be back?" He had his own 'fresher. Right here. Why was he acting like he had to trek out into the base like she does? But Jyn nods and retreats into the bedsheets. He hopes she leaves room for him. 

* * *

When he returns, she's loosened some of the sheets, so he can get in without distrubing her, thank god, but then comes the matter of him slipping in without bumping her. Once he's painstakingly slipped under the sheets, he realizes she's fully awake.

"I missed you," she whispers, out into the open air. She's sleeping on her back, and Cassian knows she's a side sleeper, having seen her curled up so many times on his ship. Not that he was looking, he'd just noticed. 

"I did, too."

She turns, and the sheets rustle, and Cassian can see the gleam of her shaded eyes in the dark, her kyber pendant slipping out of her collar. He smiles at her, and he is really, really tired, so even the thrill of Jyn rolling over and throwing her arm over her chest (of feeling her warm beside him, and slightly over him, and there's a mental image he doesn't need right now) doesn't break the pull of sleep.

He manages to press his lips to her head, first.

Of course when Cassian crawls into bed, with her, with HER, he falls asleep immediately. If they hadn't been touching, if he hadn't kissed her, Jyn would think he'd forgotten everything and was trying to be platonic again.

She sighs. Maybe he was. Or maybe he didn't want to move too fast. That was fair. She could've asked, but he was exhausted and - that was it, really. The poor man was exhausted, and she was, well, falling asleep to his chest moving under her arm.

* * *

Jyn has no excuse the next night. She knocks, to be fair, but the door slides open and for some reason Cassian looks unsurprised. And well rested. And really, really, good. She's told him she'd been sleeping in his quarters while he'd been gone, because when she got back he was off base, and she was tired, and it was the middle of the day, and she was TIRED, and her quarters were louder, colder, and sunnier than his. He seemed not to mind too much, though she could tell it was only because it was her and she wasn't the type to snoop around.

If only he had anything worth snooping at. Just a kriffing load of blankets. And outfits. _So many. _

He looks good in all of them, though, but the rolled sleeves and missed top button on his sleep shirt are driving her insane, so by the time they're in bed, and Cassian's kissed her goodnight, because that is a thing he actually does (for Force's sake, it's something people do outside of the HoloNet and her own fuzzy memories of her parents) she's lost her train of thought.

He kisses her goodnight, and she kisses him back, on the corner of his mouth, just a little, insistent nudge, and now his hand's moving to the back of her head, enough to support her but light enough if she chooses to return to using his chest as a pillow.

Jyn does not. She leans in again, kisses him properly this time, firm and insistent, and he's responding, now, meeting her every touch, and this is much, much lazier than their makeout - blast it, _makeout_ \- in her quarters, it's more explorative, and tenative, less rushed, softer but still intense, and it's even lovelier that way. Even if it's a little slow for what she's used to, and seemingly the same for Cassian, who's too sure to be shy. It's nice because it's slower, slow, but not hesitant. Unfamilar, yes, but they aren't teenagers and this isn't their first time.

Now they're kissing hard enough they're moving around on the bunk, and one of Cassian's hands is up the front of her shirt, and the other's cradling her face, and her own are sitting on his waist, and they keep kissing, keep moving closer, until they're warpped around each other, on the bed, unable to discern where one of them begins and the other ends, and Jyn's straddling him, now, and oh - oh, he _wants _her. She rocks her hips up against him and she can feel his jaw, lips, tongue working hard as he kisses her, hands holding her tighter, throat bobbing as he holds back. Blast. This was ridiculous. 

Jyn pulls away, titling her head to give her enough space to breath and speak and laugh a little at the swapped spit, by gods, and now she can get a clear view of his face, flushed, lips parted, and eyes solely on her. "If you want something, ask for it."

Cassian licks his lips, hand sliding out from under her shirt. She misses the contact of his palm, all those calluses and presice fingers, and oh, _oh,_ there's an idea. But she'd asked him. So she must bide her time. 

"More kisses," he says, and well, that's fine by her, she's not disappointed at all.

She pulls him back, almost yanks, and then Jyn's on the bed and Cassian's weight is over her, but not on her, because he seems to be holding back a lot of things, really, and then her hands are fumbling up and unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, then he pulls hers off, but keeps her necklace on. Jyn cups his face, kisses him, kisses him long enough she forgets what she was going to do, but then he kisses back, sinking down towards her, and then his lips dip towards her neck, his hand slips under her back, then lower, then grabbing her. She remembers when her lips feel the pain of her own teeth. Pain and pleasure. Slowly, slowly, she guides his roaming kisses, pushing him lower, lower, lower and they're in new territory together, now, his face against her curves.

But then he stops.

Stops.

Resting his chin on her stomach, where his stubble tingles more than tickles as it digs into her skin with their every breath, hers deep, him catching. He runs his hands up, from where they'd been toying around her waist, up her ribcage, then teasing her, squeezing, massaging, and then, they must teach this to spies (she knows the rebels don't, he's just had two weeks to think about this, presumably) he tells her, the picture of innocence with wide, brown eyes. "If you want something _ask_ for it," and blast, blast, blast, she's screwed, he's used her own words against her, she didn't even think he was paying attention earlier but he had, of course he had, and now she can't hold on, not with his hands all over her and his mouth so close, so kriffing close, she grips on to the one thing she can touch, him, his shoulders, and honest-to-hells groans:

"I want you."

"Where. How."

When she doesn't say anything more, he kisses her stomach, again, and again, and again, and he's so close to her she can feel it, even with her clothes on and sheets rumpled between them, she feels the want so strongly she's almost numb.

"Say it," he says, when he frees her from his lips. "You can't expect me to know unless you say it. I don't know if we both want th-the same thing. If we have the same expectations." By the way he's breathing, or not breathing, how he's fighting hard for control, for sanity, just like she is, she suspects they're very much on the same page, and he's just being polite. Sweet, caring. Or maybe a sleemo who's having way too much fun teasing her like this. Whatever. "Jyn."

He's not whining. But this could be his version of it.

"What do you want, Jyn?"

"You. Right now."

"Where? How?" 

Jyn sighs, arching a little into him, pushing just so her waistband hooks his chin.

"I"m bad with... talking."

Cassian's quiet enough Jyn refocuses her gaze, sees him staring at her. Thinking.

"Show me, then," he says, and lifts up, a little, a lot, then he's kneeling, right infront of her, hands on his thighs, her feet on either side of him.

"Okay," she whispers, because yes, that's a good idea, she could show him how she likes it, take the edge off, and the mere thought of him _watching_ her with those pretty, attentive eyes sends a shiver down her spine. "Okay. If you want."

"Yes, I do." 

He helps her out of her sleep pants, lets her yank off her underwear, and when he nods she braces herself against his hips, giving her a good angle and support, giving him a good... view. Blast, these blankets, she's _warm._

It's a little weird at first, she has to admit, not her own fingers on herself but Cassian's eyes on her as she kriffs herself, like her pleasure is some sort of life-or-death meeting in the war room, and maybe to him it is. It's a shocking thought, pleasant in a way far different from the two fingers inside her, and thinking about it too long pushes her too hard, so she tries to refocus, then focuses too hard on just the way Cassian's looking at her, not just between her legs but at her expression, her soft sighs, her shivers, and then she works herself too well, too quickly, and somehow she's fantasizing about Cassian even though he's right there, and that really is it, he's just there and watching and not _doing_, and with that frustration and ache she shatters.

"I see," she hears Cassian murmur in the fog, "and you still want me to-"

"Please," she replies, a little too fast for her liking, but it seemed everything about her was fast around him, and when Cassian starts she finds out he was indeed paying very close attention. She helps him a little, the first time - or second, technically - with praise and her own touch, rubbing while he adjusts his strokes, but he's also leaning in to kiss her while he's finger-kriffing her, and she can't blame him for not having eyes everywhere, yeah?

When she says this to him, after she's fallen from her second high, Cassian just hums. As if it's another problem he can solve, as if he's thinking about it.

And then he does, but she doesn't realize it, not when he starts off by idly kissing her shoulder while she catches her breath, but then her shoulder turns into her waist, then her thigh, and then he's waiting, for permission, and she really didn't expect this, from him, and already, but she isn't going to say no. Far from it.

"What do you want, Cassian?" she asks sweetly, fingers toying at his hair. They'll have to shower, after this. Maybe together... but she's missing the point.

"On my lips." He nuzzles her thigh, kisses her, kisses closer, and it's such a delightful feeling, she shivers, and knows he's filed away that reaction for future use. A future, with him. Blast. "On my tongue. Jyn, if you'll have me-" 

"Please." She digs her heels into the bunk, fingers curling in anticipation. Again. Already. Blast. "Cassian, yes. Please." Pressure builds within her, so fast and unexpected. But not really, not when "-ugh," she gasps, she whines when he touches her again, toying where she's the most sensitive, just there and nowhere else, the words she doesn't want to say sticking in her mouth, but they spill out anyways, "Cassian. You don't understand. When I - when I-" she whimpers when he kisses her again, swallowing back every confession, "I've wanted this for ages."

Cassian chuckles, and she almost curls into herself, right then and there, his breathy laugh on her, laughing at her, but no, the gleam in his eyes, he's laughing at himself? Somehow? 

"When I... when you _what,_ Jyn," he asks, and anyone else might've growled, to tease, but he was asking her, geniunely, as if he couldn't believe she, well, fantasized about him. She tells him as much.

"Jyn, if I'd known..." Cassian says, ducking his face between her legs, kissing her now, tenatively, "if I'd known sooner... I'm a fool."

"We're both idiots," Jyn says, and it's the last coherent thing she says for a while. 

Then his lips are on her, and then his tongue, and then his tongue is in her, tracing the path of their fingers, and he's drawing her out, this time, whether by hesitation or on purpose, as if he's tasting everything, testing every combination, and then he decides to suck on her with his fingers inside, and that is when she shatters again.

* * *

She's half-asleep at this point, and they're cuddled together on the bed, when Jyn twists herself away, as if to leave, because this is usually when she leaves, but then she remembers, and then shuffles closer because Cassian is a heating device, really, and then she notices, well, he hasn't been taken care of yet.

She cracks an eye open in the darkness.

"Sorry," Cassian murmurs into her ear, "I can't help-"

"Why would you not," she almost exclaims, "Cassian-"

"You were more important."

"You're important too, blast, you're not my toy, or an escort-droid, you're a person with, um, desires." Actually, he was more than that, he was a friend, and.. a lover, she guesses, because anything else seemed too inadequate. Even though the only relationship-esque thing they did was, well, get each other off, apparently. 

She rolls them over, so they're lying side by side on their backs, and then she props herself up to look at him. His face, she means, not... okay. Maybe both. She has a thought, but maybe it's too soon for that, maybe he's shy, maybe he just doesn't want to, well, be in her. She tries to not think of the dream that plagues her even now, after she's told him, or herself, because she's being far too greedy, in her own opinion. She wets her lips and raises a hand.

"Cassian?"

He grumbles. Seriously, she'd think he was leading her on if she didn't recognize the same distancing of her own needs within herself. 

"Cassian," she repeats, firmly.

"Not here," is what he says. "You'll make a mess. Of the blankets." 

Jyn rolls her eyes. "As if you haven't already." But she's empowered by his soft-yes, so she inches closer, kissing his cheek, then tracing a line from his jawline down his sternum, ending just at his waistband, just slipping under. Just enough. 

Cassian stares at her, and she's convinced he's about to roll away from her and sleep, his own wants be damned, but then he sits up, and then he's leaning towards her, and, oh - 

"Shower?" he asks, leaning into her ear, breath pushing away her hair, "bunk might be easier for you, I don't know, I haven't tried with... but you did want to shower, if you think we'll get carried away we won't-"

"Absolutely," Jyn replies, "carry me away." 

Cassian sighs. "Only if you're doing all the work, this time." 

"I want to." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There might be another chapter buried in here...


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High M before first dividing line.

Cassian pushes the hair out of her face and kisses her again.

The ship is as close to quiet as ships can be, with only him and Jyn as passengers, with her breathing hard, with him pressing his nose in the crook against hers. On the same mission, a long flight to a far-flung planet, with so much desire smoldering between them he wasn't too surprised they'd wound up like this, with Jyn's back pressed against one of the walls, her legs firmly hooked around him, her hands raking down his back. He's lost track of time, but he knows there's enough, more than enough, for Jyn to tentatively ask:

"What do you want, Cassian?"

Her eyes flutter and she pulls him closer, gently rocking her hips against his. He feels the heat rolling between them even through all these layers of clothes. There are bunks on this ship. Small, but enough, more than enough, for him to tentatively reply:

"If you'll have me, Jyn. I want you." He sighs, breath warm against her cheek, strained, woozy not out of tiredness but muted desire. "I want to be in you, Jyn-" 

She surges up and kisses him, and in between the chaos of breaths and kisses and undoing clasps, she replies. "I want you too. I want you in me, Cassian-" and the rest is a trail of clothes, shaky steps and shakier words. Jyn's pushed him onto the narrow bunk, or he pulled her down with him, he can't remember, only that he wants her and she wants him and she wants to be over him and he frankly, doesn't care either way, but there's something in her eyes as she says it, and he knows it's a bit of residual fear. From before, when she couldn't trust, and if that's what she needs, he'll be more than happy to give it. "I wanna ride you so badly." Jyn's voice cracks as she says it. "So badly."

Cassian sighs, a half-groan, half-whine of desire, and then they move together.

Jyn braces herself, and he holds her close, closer, and then she sinks down onto him, where he's been waiting, wanting, just as much as she has, both of them holding their breaths in their chests, too afraid to make a sound but unable to restrain the pleasure of finally, finally, feeling each other's warmth, right where they'd yearned for it, imagined it, hoped for it. Jyn, with Cassian deep inside her, Cassian, with Jyn wrapped around him, her tightening to make the fit better, better, getting used to his hardness inside her. It's been a long time, for the both of them. Then she rocks, slowly, testing the waters, her kyber slipping across her chest, and Cassian with his hands on her hips guides her, until it's good, it's great, until he feels like he fits, until every inch of him is touching her, rubbing her, stroking her.

Then they're delirious at the rhythmic contact, and the restraint falls away, and then Cassian's thrusting into her, for Force's sake, _Cassian's kriffing her and it's real,_ matching her every move. Together, and Jyn's hands skim over his chest, asking for more, and Cassian asks for more with praise, and now Jyn's hair's loose and Cassian's circling her with his fingers and she's sighing out his praises, singing them with her body and soul, and Cassian can only look up at her in a mix of awe and delight, sheer pleasure and a deep rooted ache, pain. She's beautiful, taking him in, wanting him, having him. And the sounds, the feelings, he'd shiver if he wasn't so warm from exertion.

Jyn's eyes fall shut, doing all she can to focus on this, blast, _she's kriffing Cassian and it's real_, and she doesn't care if the fit's perfect, hells, she wouldn't care if he's unable to coax her pleasure even while she's directing him. (Thankfully, that's not a problem.) She comes undone, slowly, but the speed doesn't matter, it's the contact that does, Cassian deep inside her, his heartbeat leaping into her own, and for a second she just rests, trying to absorb every feeling, and she's overwhelmed and at peace all at once, the pleasure and ache rushing out in one faint, satisfied exhale.

"Flip?" Cassian murmurs into her ear, when her breathing is even and the heave of her chest has slowed, when she's laid down beside him to catch her breath.

"Yeah," she replies, "we can." 

And he's careful, but wanting, and it's a knife's edge when she pulls him closer, he sinks into her, slowly, burying himself deep within, then picks up a new yet unfamiliar rhythm, testing the waters. Jyn shifts, adjusting her grip on him, her angle, and they fumble, ankles and wrists, and when Jyn gasps Cassian can feel it deep in his chest, and that's when he knows, knows, he's utterly kriffed. He wants more, says as much to Jyn, who tugs at him and moans. "Deeper. Blast. _Deeper,_ Cassian." 

He shifts, again, and she rocks with him, and they're wrapped around each other so tight he can't tell where he ends and Jyn begins, with her arms around him, with her legs hooked half-up his arms, she must be uncomfortable, there's no way, and he's so deep, so close, he can't believe this is real, and he has to ask, moving slow because there's no way what feels this good for him feels good to her, and she whimpers, whines, so he asks, and her yes is a half-choked noise like her confessions of want and desire and affirmation when he's filling her mouth, in her throat, when her tongue's wrapped around him, when he used to think she was just doing it for his sake, but she isn't. Once he hears it he realizes, yes, their pleasure and pains are one and the same, and she wants him just as much as he does her, and she's turned on by his desire as much as he is by hers.

Blast.

He kriffs her, and her reaction is amazing, and she arches into him, kisses him, goads him on, in, faster, harder. He's kriffing Jyn. Finally, and yet a surprise when the bunk manages to keep up with their finally unrestrained wants.

When they both feel the rush of relief it's at a level they've never experienced, covered in a sheen of mixed sweat, panting, they settled down on the narrow bunk. Some would call it cuddling. Cassian doesn't know. All he knows is that he's holding her, she's holding him, and she's all that he can see. 

"I love you."

Cassian doesn't say anything in response, just raises his hand to her face, tucks the hair out of her eyes, kisses her forehead. Did she mean it? Or was it just the exhilaration flowing through her? Did she love him, or did she just love - 

she burrows in closer to him, and while it pains him not to return her proclamation, it's best to let it rest. Like her, in his arms.

* * *

"Jyn," Cassian whispers, as if to himself, "did you really mean what you said last night?"

"I said a lot of things last night, Cassian," she smiles, where he cannot see her. It falters when she looks at him, his expression, and she pads across the cockpit to touch his shoulders, where he sits in the pilot's seat. "Cassian..."

"I just need to know," Cassian says, eyes firmly fixed on the dashboard, but they're stinging, yes, and his heart is tight, and he's not sure if he's hurting because she didn't mean it, or that she did and he's too far gone to accept it, or if it's just the fear... either way, he whispers, "don't give me false hope-"

Jyn slips into a kneeling position, stares at him with wide eyes. "Oh, Cassian. Cassian. Of all the people....." she swallows, the residual tingling and soreness from last night ebbing away into a different kind of pain. "Don't you trust me?"

"I do. I do. I don't trust myself. Jyn... I'm sorry. I'll only ask you for this once. I won't bother you again-"

Jyn presses her lips together, then climbs up into Cassian's seat. Sits over him, on him, then slinks down until she's sitting with him. She brushes the hair off his forehead, kisses it like he always does for her. "I love you," she says, and again, and again. Until Cassian visibly relaxes into an expression she hasn't seen before, even last night, even when he kisses her. A rare, unguarded moment of affection that she hopes she can make last. 

"I love you," Cassian replies, again, and again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They weren't going to let me rest until both of them confessed. Hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
